Rorrim
by amnothuman
Summary: A story about what if Hermione saw the Mirror of Erised, and more...


MIRROR | ɹoɹɹıɯ

* * *

First Year

* * *

Hermione Granger was a very unusual girl for her age of eleven. She was incredibly bright, or so they say. On this occasion, however, she would try to prove it. Unbeknownst to Harry and Ron, she had quietly went to the headmaster after hearing about the Mirror of Erised. She wanted to see it.

Of course, he had the usual objection, that it drove people mad. But she had an answer to it, too.

"It's leaving the school soon, so it has no chance to do that to me. Also, how can you expect me to achieve my greatest desire, if I don't know what that is?"

The headmaster blinked in surprise. "Why, my dear girl, are you sure don't even know what you want? Of all your classmates, you have always seemed the most driven."

"It never hurts to check." She smiled. "Besides, such a thing is a common affliction of my age. Knowing what you want in general is entirely different from what your deepest, fondest wish is."

"Very well. Just once, I suppose. Follow me."

Joyfully she bounced inside, though externally she kept herself composed, not liking to look like a child. She already did enough, being one after all, and it was hard to get people to take you seriously like that. The mirror turned out to be much like she'd read, with the backwards letters that seemed a rather poor joke.

Staring at it, she first noted herself- why, she was all grown up! And she seemed to have a massive collection of books, and awards for doing clever things, and had graduated from school…

Was that it? Hermione frowned to herself after a moment, realizing to her surprise it had actually disappointed her. Surely there was something more to do, to _learn, _something- and to her surprise, the mirror shifted right before her eyes. It turned deep black.

_What does that mean? If only I knew how you work…_

Before her eyes, a man walked in the mirror, in the darkness, holding sand. Blowing gently, he tapped at the flying particles with his wand, and watched them form together into swirling, red hot glass. Pouring more sand from his pockets, which seemed to have an endless supply, he tapped and swished, blowing lightly. Words appeared in the mirror, what looked like incantations… the man must have been doing them nonverbally!

That picture… she was sure she'd seen his face before. Oh! Of course, he was one of the suspected makers of the mirror, but nobody had ever proved it. Fascinating.

The glass was beginning to rather resemble a puffed, colorful marble not yet finished. The shape of it bent and twisted about, until it straightened completely. The man took a frame of separate material and levitated it into place around the glass, which seemed, magically, to pop straight into place perfectly.

She watched him labor for some time more, doing such fine details as etching on the words (which bizarrely appeared in plain English instead of backwards) and telling the glass to start working. "Fascinating." Hermione breathed, touching the mirror. To her surprise, the man glanced at her and smiled, winking.

He took out an empty bag, and in the mirror inside the mirror, a version of him with a full bag of diamonds was seen. He stuck out his tongue. Then the mirror in the mirror turned black.

_"Fi tahw uoy erised tonnac eb nees, ti t'now eb. Fi ti nac eb nees, ti lliw eb. Ym tfig ot eht dlrow, I epoh uoy nac etaicerppa ti retteb naht eht srehto." _More words! But this time she could swear she heard them. Glancing about, she wondered if anyone else could, but Dumbledore seemed to be gone. She couldn't ask him. What a shame.

"Um, flip around please." It was just like before, not too hard to figure out. She had to desire them to appear correctly- or incorrectly, in this case perhaps. That was a fault of the mirror she'd have to remember in-future.

_"If what you desire cannot be seen, it won't be. If it can be seen, it will be. My gift to the world, I hope you can appreciate it better than the others. _You are my only apprentice._"_

And with that, he vanished, leaving a very satisfied child looking at her own reflection.

* * *

B **r** _k_en

Second Year

* * *

"Professor Snape?"

"What is it, you silly idiotic girl?" the darkly clothed man turned at last and rudely remarked.

Hermione seethed, but swallowed her dignity for a moment. "Sir, I heard you were good at this spell… and you are obviously a better teacher than Lockhart-" Yes, it was impossible to forget the duel now with it so fresh in their minds. He'd really trounced the man before the duel had a chance to begin. She just hoped his mind didn't linger on the aftermath, when the students began to duel, for too long… It might sour his mood even worse.

"A spell? Surely nothing that dunce has assigned to you is beyond your capability, figure it out on your own." Was that a compliment? No, it seemed more like an insult, the way he spoke it. Or maybe it was a _stealth_ compliment and he didn't want to admit he actually liked her a little deep down inside. But that seemed unlikely.

"No sir, I've been studying it on my own. Here." She handed him a piece of parchment, and watched his eyes' widen a fraction and, for the briefest moment, he lost his sneer. But it was rapidly replaced by a frown.

"No wonder you are having difficulty with it, this is above your year, and arithmancy to boot. You won't be studying even the basics of that until third year." He paused faintly, and she could tell he was struggling with his curiosity against his disgust. "What book was this in?"

"Um, I overheard it somewhere I think, some Ravenclaw was discussing it and I got curious." It was very uncomfortable for her, going out of her way to lie to a teacher, but she had a feeling that saying she saw it in a mirror was a bad idea. "Never mind, sorry to bother you."

Hermione turned and quickly left, leaving Snape hopefully before he could wonder how exactly she had gotten the correct spelling if she hadn't looked it up in a book, or conclude she must have found it in the Restricted Section and was up to trouble.

Granger wasn't so easily discouraged. A part of her couldn't help but feel that Dumbledore had been right, that one really shouldn't look for fear of being driven mad, for certainly it had done _something_ to her. It had caught her curiosity, her vigorous fascination with everything, and now she found herself setting about, trying to follow the instructions. Thanks to Professor Snape, she now knew in which books to start looking. Part of it seemed to be charm and transfiguration, as well, so that would help. Oh, this would be fun!

But the Chamber, unfortunately, distracted her from all this, and her search for what the monster really was, a Basilisk, and making of the polyjuice, would take some time…

* * *

ǝɯıʇ xopɐɹɐd paradox time

Third Year

* * *

_Oh, these lessons are wonderful! Except for that dratted Divination class. _Hermione fumed, looking about carefully. No one would go in this classroom for a few hours, but it never hurt to double check. Quietly she tucked her time turner under her robe so it wouldn't be seen.

She'd just been in arithmancy class a few minutes ago, or a few hours from now, depending on your point of view. Anyway, she felt ready! She'd been practicing, and some of the spells were very advanced, but she was only going to make a very tiny, simple version. Just for fun. Although, she'd been thinking about this project for two and a half years now, maybe enough was enough.

Granger had a small pouch of sand, and a little picture frame that was meant to be used for photos. She had detailed her very careful diagrams, had books referencing all the spells- there was one spell, though, that wasn't in any book she found. It had probably been invented and never passed on. That one would be the trickiest to do.

She didn't actually remember every little detail she'd seen, but she knew there were two ways she could go about it. One, she could have just spell it, in which case some spells could fade very quickly or only work for a few seconds, two, she could get it to draw on the user's magic, which was potentially dangerous if not done right but an easy way to make it more permanent and muggle proof. She theorized this was how brooms worked, since only a wizard or witch could use them, but didn't know if having an abundance of magic could make one a better broom user. She filed that away under things she suspected about Harry... Then tried to focus and not to go off on mental tangents.

Thinking on what she'd seen, the original seemed to have been a mix. It used the user's magic to fuel the imagery of their own desires, but had some basic protective work to help prevent dangerous tampering or to prevent anyone else seeing the image. It had yet another spell, a spell that sought truth, which was what she was most interested in. Then there was that last spell she didn't recognize. She guessed it allowed one to show an image or something in the mirror, though.

There was an extra spell she was adding to this one, though. One had to ask the mirror before it would show anything besides one's reflection. Just to keep it safe and less likely to be stolen.

"And… There we go!" She grinned. Alright, she was ready for her first test! Admittedly, her mirror looked pretty terrible- it was green like beer glass with blue in light sections. Maybe she added a bit too much ash to her sand. Oh well. At least it was transparent. Now she added silver and aluminum to the back to make it more reflective. Nice.

"Show me. Ostendiappareo!" she whispered, strongly picturing an apple and swishing. Nothing. Hmm… _Apples are sweet, nutritious fruits and I'd love one very much, to prove this mirror works. _Still nothing. Maybe she'd misjudged what that spell was for. Perhaps there was a component missing. Her research into mind magics had not turned up very much, and she was pretty sure something that grabbed something from someone else's mind counted as some sort of mind magic, although she'd thought she'd accounted for that with the limited amount she had managed to find and the spells she'd used, though some were only a small footnote in dusty tombs. Maybe there was some kind of mental component missing from her end.

Wait. She remembered him winking. But that was ridiculous, surely no one would make that part of casting? Trying it and feeling silly, she was immediately rewarded. A dark, milky green apple appeared on the surface. Ha. Someone sure did have a sense of humor, then.

Feeling satisfied, her own reflection then began to stare back at her. Somehow, looking at one's self had never been quite so satisfying before, though it still felt vain to do so. But, it was time to go- wait, time. A thought snagged in her mind. She shouldn't. She _could_.

She would. Looking back at the mirror, she grinned wide, feeling eager to learn about paradoxes like no wizard could before. _What would happen if I turned back time, and killed my parents before I was born?_

Her smile immediately vanished, but she could not look away, not even in horror as she saw herself gruesomely going back… _bad choice!_ Series upon series of events spilled upon the mirror, alternate paths twirling, recursions where she went back two or three times and did the same thing over and over again, tried to stop herself, events where she died, events where she lived and did not live… most prominent of all was a reality where _He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named _rose once more and Harry was too young and powerless to stop it, an older-yet-not-much-more Granger who technically didn't exist living trapped in that line, held by the Ministry for breaking time and law and soulle- frantically she closed her eyes, chanting to herself _remember, sometimes the mirror doesn't show you quite right like with the backwards words… Maybe I messed up and it'swrongwrong! _

Breathing loudly, she glanced to see if it had stopped. It had. Then a thought occurred to her. It would show her what she wanted to see… including 'truths' she searched for. If she wanted to learn with a potential result already in her head or a desire for the best possible interpretation, it could ruin the results of the mirror. Maybe that was even what happened to the original creator…

Still, the result she'd received was intriguing, it had suggested that there were multiple timelines; her double had not simply vanished or totally ceased to exist, although that had happened in one frame. The mirror had shown her _possibilities _of what would happen, not a single easy timeline. It suggested multiple timelines in the most prominent one, for her past self wasn't erased… and her eyes widening, she realized that the other timelines were alternate timelines of that timeline. Alternate universes, so to speak. Amazing… bad things happen to wizards who mess with time indeed. She hated to think what would happen if one somehow got stuck in the wrong universe.

One thing she knew though, is she badly needed to know how to kill those… Dementors, the fate of her other-self fresh in her mind. Badly. Shivering, she picked herself up and went to go to Professor Lupin; if he could go and give Harry lessons on it, _extra lessons the lucky berk! _then she could at least get a brief one from him on the subject. Harry might have determination and luck on his side, but she had discipline and a fair dose of stubbornness herself. She could do it.

Calming herself, she reminded herself she still had classes to go to first and turned to go walk that way, keeping her mirror hidden in a bag when she passed other students by. When would a good time would be to bug him about it? After Defense Class, probably, which wouldn't be for some time. It was Harry's and Ron's current favorite, it seemed, though it wasn't hers… actually, despite being friends, they held very few things in common, preferences about school being a major one of them. She still hadn't forgotten, nor had they ever really entirely stopped, the way they rather dismissed learning, and her as well. They didn't mind her studying, of course, but they looked down on it when she went out of her way to work harder than she needed to or to get extra work, to raise her hand when she knew the right answer, or other things. It made one feel rather lonely, really, especially after an argument. Sometimes she wondered why they even were- no, no, she didn't…

They had saved her from a troll. They'd solved adventures together, defeating dark wizards, albeit actually the same one over and over. She liked that, doing that with them and, well, being alive, she thought with a smile. That meant something. Plus, it wasn't liked she wanted to stop being friends. They were the only ones she really had.

_Oh yes, and isn't that a lonely thought in and of itself. _Gripping her hands together tightly with a scowl, she looked at the mirror once more. _And isn't it the same thing over again? That I'm a know-it-all? Is it that I'm too smart? No… I shouldn't taint the results. _she chided herself. _Rather, I should ask something where I know the answer I expect is quite false, and then can easily guess how much the result has been warped... I desire to see, to know… How do I really get people to like me for who I am?_

_**Become what they like. **_New images swirled upon the surface. She saw herself budding up to Lavender, and talking Quidditch with the entire Gryffindor team, and saw, even, amusingly, her assuming a fake pureblood identity and impressing Draco Malfoy, killing Voldemort, becoming a death eater, and oddly enough being a boy surrounded by girls...

Staring at this baffling answer, the girl leaned back and choked a laugh. It was so absurdly simple and yet totally wrong for what she wanted. It made her insanely cheerful somehow, though, and better about herself especially to realize there were a great many people she didn't like herself and would never want to be liked by.

But, there still had to be something that could be done to improve herself- NO NOT THAT! She glared at the mirror for showing a dark ritual, although she had to smother a laugh. Then she saw images flit by of her reading a book, doing jump rope (jump rope, honestly?), pushups, driving a car, flying a plane, swimming, brewing a wit potion, cooking- tons upon tons of different activities went by, and she felt impressed. But one image caught her eye and she, with surprising control of her own desires and emotions, commanded it to still before the others could flash on by.

There she was, just laughing, smiling with friends, looking like she was having a good time, and doodling a picture (she never doodled, so she found this in itself odd) of a box and a cramped stick person inside it, thinking 'Boy, it sure is hard to find space to place thinking bubbles in this tiny box.' Then, her mirror self glanced at her watch, in which the numbers were all facing the wrong way- which struck her as amusing, as the thought bubble must have been drawn to shown correctly in the mirror, but eerie. The time was- ah, bloody- pardon her language, of course, but she had gotten so totally sucked into the fun she'd been having the mirror that she'd lost track of time and where she was and had totally missed the class. Apparently, her improved self knew how to control herself better, she mused before spinning the time turner.

Perhaps she was becoming too… obsessed with puzzling out what she could do with the mirror. She still hadn't tested it thoroughly to see if she could learn things about, say, people she had no normal way of knowing, like what color Dumbledore's socks would be this evening. She could even try cheating on her homework, though such a thing would be utterly abominable. And she hadn't even figured out what that improved self was doing to improve herself yet. Gaining a better sense of humor? Doodling? No. What about the message, it clearly was some sort of clue… wait. More creative. Perhaps she should try to become more creative, it was something she was ruefully lacking in sometimes she had to profess. Oh, well-rounded! Her other-self had seemed more 'well rounded', too, trying different things.

…it was all worth trying, she supposed. But now it was time to work on something else!

* * *

"KEEP YOUR BLOODY MONSTER AWAY FROM MY RAT_, GRANGER_!" Ron Weasley spewed her last name like an insult, clutching a bleeding rat with a scowl.

Mercilessly, Crookshanks stared, a low yowl coming from his ginger form. Hermione stood in front of him, arms at her sides clenched in annoyance. "I keep telling you, it's not his fault! You should keep track of your rat better, nothing's preventing an owl for chewing on him as a snack."

"It's not bloody owls I'm worried about! Probably couldn't lift his fat bum into the air anyway." Hedwig swiveled her head around at this, and hooted indignantly on Harry's shoulder, who looked indecisive and unhappy about the whole business before sending the bird off.

"Okay, we should probably get the medicine for your rat in a few days, Ron." Harry mumbled.

"A few days! He could bleed to death by then! You've killed Scabbers!" Ron raged, stomping out of the room and slamming the door.

"It can't bleed for days, Ron!" having no real retort for that, though, she stormed out of the room herself, feeling awful, angry, and annoyingly enough rather guilty. Maybe she should control her cat better… but he certainly wasn't a monster. When he'd grabbed the rat he hadn't been trying to kill it- it had been Scabber's own struggles that had caused him to bleed, she swore. Or at least that was what it had looked like. Frowning, she sighed and went to comfort herself with writing notes and reading a book.

After the upset youth finished her homework, she turned to her notes on her project, the fight before now mostly out of her head. A small spell revealed all, though she was careful enough not to really add in too many details regardless in case someone looked.

_Test 1. _

_Successfully got an image to appear._

_Test 2_

_Asked a question and got something that could be interpreted into an answer._

_Test 3_

_Tried to ask it what Dumbledore's clothes would look like this evening, but couldn't bring self to care enough… Test was a failure._

_Test 4_

_Desired it to show me how to defeat a Dementor and then went to Professor Lupin for tips. Concluded there was a slight difference; it never recommended chocolate to help soothe nerves, nor really went into the whole happy memory thing. I must conclude that I biased it due to still finding the concept of my own emotional state influencing spells unusual._

_Perhaps it is not quite as rare as I keep wanting it to be- I would never want a spell to fail because I wasn't feeling the way I was supposed to! It seems logical to me now that many spells could be influenced by a magical state, as I think about it, my first accidental magic was when I was upset, as it is for many muggle borns. If negative emotions could be harnessed to greater affect- I do believe I have independently perhaps found some route to what would be called dark magic._

_I will end my inquiry for now._

With a long pause, she stared down at it, then decided to go on with it. Whetting a quill, the young girl began to scribble some more, flipping to a second page.

_TEST 5_

_Will purchase a lottery ticket or invest in some sort of gambling venture. It would be immoral to win a lot, kind of like cheating, but purely for scientific purposes could be a good way of proving it. I believe it is fairly easy to desire money, which will help._

She tapped it with her wand, and the words vanished. Putting it down now, the writer rubbed her chin, thoughtful. It would be ironic if after deciding Divination was her most hated class she became far too good at it, she chuckled, though it remained to be seen if it could see the future or not. That was what she needed to know most, although the idea of having such a powerful object if it was true was completely unnerving. Sure, it showed her possibilities, but she wasn't totally convinced yet it wasn't merely showing her pieces of her own mind cleverly arranged. She needed something random and unlikely.

What would she do with the money if she got it? It would be odd explaining a sudden influx of money… perhaps donating it to charity would be best. Or buying some books and donating them to the school library! It was hard to imagine finding any sizable number of books the library didn't already have, though. Perhaps, she thought slyly, some muggle ones would do. The muggle studies class was pretty woeful in preparing one for the actual non-magical world, she decided. It also seemed the kind of thing that would be more useful if students could get it earlier if they needed it. Not every wizard lived in a magical town like Hogsmeade.

But Hermione was getting ahead of herself, especially as ideas for spelling the books to prevent them from getting tampered with sprung in her mind. She didn't even know if this would work.

And bugger Ron to hell!

* * *

Professor Lupin had to be a werewolf. A WEREWOLF! It was the only way all the clues fit together, and helped explained Professor Snape's real reasons for the class. Not that she hadn't enjoyed it in and of itself of course, being very educational, but she wasn't sure what to think of it. Harry had been spending a lot of time with the Professor, and it seemed surely that being a werewolf hadn't affected his temperament on the other days of the week any. She couldn't say anything, not when Harry would hate her for trying to ruin their friendship… But it didn't feel right to her that he was hiding it from the students, and possibly the rest of the faculty, although Professor Snape certainly seemed to know. That meant Dumbledore himself probably told him not to oust him, which meant some at least really were intentionally keeping it secret .

Wait. Smiling to herself, she leaned back and pondered what would happen if she got a cure for them. Werewolves. It would be wonderful, and then no more secrets would have to be kept, and a whole lot of people would be helped. Nobody would have to fear them again.

First, though, she needed to consider the results from her last test. Some students had been betting on things like an Exploding Snap competition, Quidditch, and whether or not Snape would deduct more than ten points from Gryffindor in Monday's potions lesson with Fred and George Weasley. She still had not purchased a lottery ticket or any such numbered thing, but that could be done a lot easier over the summer when in the muggle world.

Checking it off, and glancing at the money in her bag… she had to conclude it was overall a success, if not perfect. She had not been able to manage a lot of desire to know about Quidditch, which might have skewed the results, but had been able to control her other desires pretty well. It was a skill she'd learned when she was little- to convince herself not only did she not want in the cookie jar, but she actually preferred broccoli.

Feeling a little overwhelmed, she wondered if maybe it was just random chance, maybe she had simply gotten lucky. To have something so powerful, more powerful than she really even knew what to do with, it was… a bit much.

Still, now she rather wanted to do something genuinely useful. Any tips it offered, she supposed, could be very helpful. Breaking off from the crowd, she went to an empty classroom and took it out, almost feverish with excitement at her new idea.

Words not even in her head yet, an image sprung of Professor Lupin sitting, as a human, underneath the full moon with a blank expression. Frowning, she supposed he was obviously cured, but, what WAS the cu-

Her professor fell over, a silver knife sticking in his back. Stifling the reaction to scream, she watched the image vanished and a new one appeared of her curled up alone, crying. It was true, she did want to be alone to herself, she didn't want to know, didn't want to know _more_ if that was the _only_ cure. Death.

* * *

It went so badly.

First, Buckbeak was dead. Hagrid was in tears, but Scabbers, stupid scabbers, chose to show up and a bloody madman went after Ron because he had him. Then Sirius Black showed he was innocent, Harry and Ron learned Remus was a werewolf, Snape got knocked out, and Remus TURNED into a bloody werewolf, and…

Why, oh why was Snape dead? He shouldn't have died! Even worse, doing it while protecting them. And Lupin, no… Lupin was unconscious, but he was going to be dead too. You didn't get away with killing a person, not even in werewolf form, or perhaps rather especially so.

Black, where was Black she wondered while she shivered in cold? He'd turned into a dog and stumbled off, injured by Lupin, and Harry had went after him. Oh, no no no… Harry was with that lunatic. The lunatic the dementors were after!

Running, she raced through the landscape, towards the Forbidden Forest's edges, then, as a dark shape caught her eye, towards the lake. There on the frigid ground was poor Harry, and Sirius, but there was absolutely nothing she could do. They were totally still… staring outward at nothingness.

Crying, she rubbed her eyes and sunk to the ground. "Wake up, please wake up…" but, of course, she told herself acidly, _that won't help Granger, they're already awake. Thing is, they don't think. _"This can't be happening. Harry can't be gone." she spoke to empty air, tears running down everywhere across her. Then, with sudden firmness, and perhaps a touch of madness, she snarled to herself. "No. He won't be!" Standing up, she violently pulled the time turner from her neck, not caring if she hurt herself, and forced herself to stop trembling long enough to spin it.

She had to go back, to undo all this. But when? Where? How? She was breaking the law, there was no way she could expect to receive help from anyone, she firmly decided, so going to Professor Lupin and reminding him to take the potion would just end up with her in jail. No, no… wait a moment, she could save Buckbeak as well! Good, three turns at least then.

And then she would howl to Lupin, to distract him, and then she would have to face the werewolf in combat, somehow defeat him, then defeat the Dementors with a patronus. These were all daunting tasks, especially as she had not managed to make a patronus before or stop Lupin from killing a fully grown wizard before. It was only because Professor Snape had distracted it and weakened it she'd been able to knock out Lupin at all…

She felt horribly guilty for all the times they'd spoken badly of Snape or suspected him. But if she went back… her other-self would not remember all of this. Feeling odd as she released the time turner and went back through time, she immediately headed to Hagrid's shack. Would she simply cease to exist?

Her past self was still about, surely… She'd be rescuing her in the future, Future Hermione oddly realized. Herself, Past Self, she'd have to avoid her while fighting Lupin and rescuing Harry. Perhaps Snape would be of some service there, he'd probably try to take her back to the authorities at the castle.

Goodness, that was weird. Her, but not _h__er. Gracious, and if I stop myself from going back through time… _No, that was it. Somehow, she'd have to convince past-Granger to go back, again into a stable time loop, because it would cause a paradox if nobody ever went back to do what she did, and Future Hermione just suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Wouldn't it? Nervously, still, she wondered…

* * *

It was done. At last, it was done. Laughter racked the cold hall she sat in, as she gazed outward. She still had not vanished, and felt a terrible drive to _know_. She had nothing else, not even a life, for rather than cause trouble she knew she had to vanish as soon as possible.

There was only one thing that could answer her questions, and that was the mirror sitting where she'd left it before it had all began. Hermione stood up, and walked down, trying to avoid notice of those who had seen her. It didn't really matter though, anyway, as long as they didn't realize there were (permanently?) two of her.

Entering the common room, she found it deserted. It was late, of course, and everyone was sleeping. Creeping into the girl's dorm, she opened the door and saw-

Herself staring right at her. A startled noise began in both their throats, but thinking quickly she cast a silencing spell and a stunner, and Other-Hermione fell down with a silent thud. Now knowing she certainly wasn't entirely sane, she grabbed the mirror roughly from where she knew it lay, then, turning around so other-Hermione didn't get any strange ideas about having to go back in time and try to mug herself or to reveal what happened, pushed the other into bed and muttered a quick _Obliviate _before setting the stun to get undone in a few minutes_._

Then she was gone.

* * *

A/N: I don't remember ever reading who the maker of the mirror was. My apologies. I haven't actually read the books in awhile and skim-read the seventh because it was awful. I found writing the story more fun if I didn't have to constantly check things. Don't feel pressured to review or even read this note, I just like to ramble...

Rowling never actually tells us what happens if seeing one's desire fulfills that desire- like an answer. Now, we do have Quirrel looking for the stone, but presumably his desire to give the stone to his master was greater than the desire to actually know where it is. When Harry wanted to find the stone, _he found it. _See the inherent (world breaking) possibilities here? The actual spell to add it to his pocket was Dumbledore's, but he didn't **have** to necessarily add anything else, as far as we know, because the possibilities already rested in the mirror.

Hermione Granger is our investigator- someone who we know could value knowing much more than the having, and who might be young and childish enough to have her 'greatest desires' be so easily satisfied, like a child with a cookie jar who wants nothing more in the world than to open it.

Dumbledore plays an enabler. (He's so good at letting children have access to potentially dangerous stuff! Don't you just love him?)

Harry Potter plays… no role whatsoever beyond plot device, as his character bores me, ironically. Though that could change.

I can try to turn this into a slightly larger story, but I can also just stop writing especially as I am at a slight loss as to go next and how I'd end it. I think this makes an okay one-shot. It started off just wondering what would happen if Hermione saw the mirror, and then traveling through the years. One can imagine what happens next, probably with this-Hermione being quite miserable and struggling to find her way.

The events in the third book... It makes one think there must have been an original reality where Hermione chose to go back in time and alter the actions of her past self; the major thing being I'm not entirely convinced that the previous Hermione Granger would vanish, at least not in every timeline, and somewhere you'd end up with an extra Hermione Granger in one time line. In the next spiral of the time loop, she disappears- past-Hermione goes into the past and undoes the reason Other-Hermione went there in the first place, making a new alternate reality and from her point of view changing time itself, but there is still the existing unique alternate reality where Other-Hermione is AND past-Hermione at the same time. If that makes sense… I may have screwed up somewhere, being that time is complicated. Anyway, what I'm saying is this Hermione created the reality we all know and love, but didn't get the pleasure of getting to be in it! As a side-prize, she has a magic mirror that has dubious results depending on your emotional state. Yeah.

Although, technically this Hermione would never have been canon, she's different. I can't say exactly how, except that she seems a bit more independent than the book-Hermione. Perhaps the obliviate and time-traveling altered her personality a touch, though, in this reality, hah. (:

On a side note, for some reason Dementor is capitalized if I remember correctly? Maybe it's their names as well as their species. Hello Mr. Dementor, how is your lovely wife to-day? What, you kissed her? How the heck could you do such an awful thing? I know, I know, all the other spouses do it and you just felt so put-upon, but, goodbye, Mr. Dementor, I expect to see you in court.

…and this A/N has officially gotten far too long. Whoops.


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